


Time

by kiwa



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Morals, Panic Attack, Philosophy, Recreational Drug Use, eroticism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:44:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5266628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwa/pseuds/kiwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love is never easy, is it?</p><p>Katharine struggles in coming to terms with the new world. She struggles with her intensely growing love for a certain ghoul, the trauma of her childhood, and the horror of losing everything at once.</p><p>What started as a slow fall for Hancock quickly became Katharine's struggle with the present. She hasn't fully grasped that chems--med-x in particular--don't have the magical power to numb all pain, and actually may make things worse.</p><p>This is a story for those of you who are not in early release Hancock sweetheart loveydovey mode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hancock talk

"What's a gal like yourself doing working for a group of tight asses like the Brotherhood?"

Katharine shrugged her shoulders and used her knife to cut into an old can of pork n' beans. Too exhausted to finish, she set the can and knife down and grabbed a syringe of med-x.

She had waltzed into Goodneighbor just ten minutes ago still wearing the BOS uniform and combat armor, and was, in fact, stopped by a few guards for questioning. She was about to be dragged away for questioning when Hancock had spotted her and stepped in to take her inside the old state house.

The pair now sat across from each other on the dark red couches on the upper level of the state house, a couple dozen chems scattered about the coffee table between them. They were both high, though Hancock notedly more so, and both were staring absently at the ceiling.

"You were doing a good thing: hanging around with old Valentine. What made you change?"

"You don't want to hear the story," she said, although she really did want to confide in him.

"Sure, I do," he replied, but Katharine stayed silent. "Come on, you can tell me. You know I won't judge ya."

She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. "The first time I came here, when Nick was with me, we went to the Memory Den. I never explained to you what was going on, and trust me, it's a long and complicated story, but you have to believe me."

"I'm all ears."

She took another deep breath, uneven and shaky, before she continued, "Well, you know I'm a vault-dweller."

"Could tell that much from a first glance." Katharine paused and glared at Hancock for his interjection and he tore his eyes away from the ceiling to give her a cocky grin in response. "Okay, okay. I'm just kidding. Keep going."

"My vault, 111, it was a cryo testing facility. I'm one of the original vault-dwellers from two centuries ago. My husband, son, and I were all frozen in these... pods..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. You're from prewar?" Hancock violently leaned forward, almost falling off the couch.

"Yes. I am."

"So you knew what all this looked like before all the radiation got to everything." He leaned even more forward.

"Yes."

"Oh man! What I would give to see what you saw back in the day!" Hancock threw his head back and slapped his thighs. His whole body moved in some way. He was full of excitement.

"Yes, well..."

Hancock caught a glimpse of the impatience in Katharine's eyes and recomposed himself. "Oh right. Go on with your story. I'll listen."

"I'll cut straight to the point, since you're so high out of your mind you can't seem to get a grip on what I'm trying to tell you. But I can hardly blame you. That's just how you are, isn't it?"

"Hey, Kat, calm down. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. You're so dark and gloomy. Makes me uncomfortable, ya know?"

"While still in the vault, my son was taken by some... people. The same people killed my husband. I'm here, out here in this wasteland, trying to get Shaun back and avenge Nate's death. I'm grasping desperately onto all the threads of information I can get an ear to, and you know what? My leads are all pointing to the institute. And guess who's just strolled into the Commonwealth with the intention of virtually destroying the institute? The Brotherhood of Steel."

"You know they--they don't look kindly upon ghouls like myself." Hancock spoke quietly, not wanting to rouse the woman's rage further.

"I know that. They also despise synths and super mutants. I don't have to follow their beliefs so much as just do as I'm told. I'm still going to hang around Nick and I'll still keep helping Strong find the milk of human kindness." Katharine stood, grabbed a tin of mentats and crunched a few red tablets. "I'm not going to throw away what I believe in, nor my goals, just to suit someone else--something else. So you, John Hancock, are still going to be one of my best friends. Still someone I can count on and rely on and confide in. You'll be happy to hear that if those Brotherhood 'tight asses' tell me to pull the trigger to your temple, I won't do it. Now. Good. Night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally wrote this in an hour with minimal proofing but s'okay. Tried to capture Hancock's personality but yo I'm not sure if I did it well or not. Please let me know what you think in that regard.
> 
> On another note, I only have a very basic idea for what's going to happen, where this is headed. If anyone wants to talk about Hancock, hit me up, 'kay.


	2. going back in time: memories through a high lens

It had been an exhausting couple weeks. Katharine sat on the ground in the middle of the cul de sac in Sanctuary, staring up at the molecular transporter built, quite literally, in her backyard. The sight of it made her uneasy as thoughts of barrelling through the Institute's halls made her stomach flop around. She imagined finding Shaun and saving him. She imagined finding him and bringing him home--to Sanctuary.

Her mind was too clear. She needed to take what Hancock would call a 'chem break'; so she peeked through the ruined homes for Cait and together took off for Goodneighbor.

If they both wore Power Armor, it cut the travel time to downtown--or, the remains of it--in half. It had been nearly a month since Katharine unfroze, but the sight of the wasteland never failed to amaze her. Whenever they travelled together (usually to Goodneighbor), Cait would often catch Katharine in an almost druggish stupor. She would holler, "Your braincells freezing up again?" followed by "None of that cryo shit got in you, did it? It ain't contagious, is it?" Katharine ignored these remarks and continued her reminiscing.

When the two ladies reached misfit town, the first thing Cait did was take off searching for the nearest dealer. Katharine stopped by Daisy's for a quick hello and some chit-chat about their lives before the great war before making a beeline for the old state house.

"Hancock! Hey, Hancock!" she shouted as soon as she stepped through the doors. Fahrenheit leaned over the banister edge, a glare in her eye.

"He's stepped out," she said. The brutish woman never took to Katharine, and Katharine thought it might have been because of how fast she had chummed up to Hancock. Since the incident with Bobbi, Katharine could never quite escape Fahrenheit's angry glare.

"Could you tell me where he went off to?"

"No clue," came her curt reply and then she pushed herself off the banister and disappeared into one of the rooms.

Katharine let out a brief huff. _How could she not know where Hancock is? She's his bodyguard,_ she thought. Unperturbed, she let herself feel at home in the ancient building. Where once it had smelled like old wood and ancient history, it now had the distinct scent of chems and radiation. There was no way she could describe it but it made her slightly nauseous. It made her nostrils burn if she breathed in too sharply. Long and slow was the best way to breathe in there, she figured.

She took a puff of jet and vegged out on the floor of some room off the main staircase. Time slowed down to a crawl. She made shapes in her mind out of the rubble surrounding her, made a mental list of the things she missed, lost, wanted to get back: Shaun, her law and culture books, non-irradiated macaroni and cheese, non-irradiated potatoes and pasta and chips and pretty much all prewar food, bunnies (she really missed the soft little rodents), fashionable clothes. Not so much makeup. If she squinted and tried really hard, she could make this brick across the room look like one of Shaun's toys.

Katharine came down from her high in a manner of minutes but for her seemed a good hour. She peeked outside the door looking for any sign of Hancock. A guard spotted her and said, "He hasn't come in yet, Kat."

She nodded her head. "I told Cait to come look for me here whenever she wanted to head home. Just let her know I'm in here, 'kay?" Her speech was a little sloppy from the jet and a little drool escaped from the corner of her mouth. She ducked back into the little room and this time took a hit of med-x. She frowned, looking down at her inner elbow, watching a bubble of blood dribble out from where she needled herself. She was doing chem break without Hancock and it made her a little lonely. Maybe if she metup with Cait, they could do something together.

A brief flash of one night, weeks ago, when they'd both gotten drunk and made out for an hour. It was a little party and the people watching cheered at them for going at it, but the redhead passed out before they could go any further. Katharine didn't mind, though. She sneaked out back to her shack and finished herself off, and in the morning everything was back to normal.

Katharine shook her head. She felt a warm sensation pooling in her lower abdomen and made a soft click with her tongue. _I can't believe I'm getting horny in a place such as this,_ she thought and was a little bit disgusted with herself, but that didn't stop her line of thought.

A memory forced into her mind the time of her and Nate's first romance--lord knows they had broken up and separated a thousand times. They were in a blue car, old but kept in good working condition. "My grandpa lent it to me," Nate had said, embarrassment crawling into his features and Katharine had thought it was cute. They'd been friends since childhood, the rich girl and the poor boy, and had been like sweethearts all throughout high school. They had gone out plenty of times, but never was it like this, a formal date, and Nate had asked her.

They were first year college students, though going to completely different institutions. He had asked her while they were out for coffee, and of course Katharine had said yes.

Now they overlooked the ocean in Nate's grandfather's car, light low and radio soft. Dinner was through and a movie planned, but all tickets were sold out. Nate flustered over what to do next until Katharine suggested they head out to the coastline.

Alone together, Nate fretted. He loved her, she knew he did and always has, but she herself felt like too much of a fuckup to commit herself. But now they were in college, and both their lives seemed to be on track, so she grabbed his hand and leaned into the cusp of his collarbone and kissed the side of his neck. Nate firmly grabbed ahold of Katharine's shoulder, seemingly about to push her away, but she let out an erotic sigh and they stared into each other's eyes.

"Katharine?" he breathed.

"Nate," she replied. There was a silence where they searched each other's face for a signal to continue or to stop. "Nate," she repeated, "you... you love me, right?" She backed away and he placed his hand atop hers, giving it a little squeeze.

He looked into her eyes and smiled wholeheartedly. "I do. I love you, Katharine. So very much. With all that I am." She smiled back and their lips did what hands do in prayer.

That night was the first time they touched each other in explicit ways. At the back of her mind, Katharine wondered why it took so long. Why was it so hard to get close to people, physically?

Maybe it was because her uncle had touched her as a girl.  
Maybe it was because her mother was an alcoholic and hit her.  
Maybe it was because her father was a millionaire with a coy mistress, and sometimes she watched.

Perhaps, the only person in the household who cared for her, truly, was her tutor. A thin and frail man merely ten years older than her. He taught her scholarly things beyond what regular schooling would teach her. It was thanks to him that she fell in love with poetry and literature, with law, with justice. It was his fault that she was not completely led astray.

A rather obtrusive gunshot awoke her from her viscous daydream. She jolted forward to see Hancock towering above her with a 10mm pistol in his right hand and a small hole in the ceiling.

"You awake now?"

"Hancock?"

"God, I didn't think it'd take a bullet to wake you up. Normally, those put people out." He had a grin on his face and she mimicked him.

"Man, what the fuck took you so long." Her words took the form of a question but sounded more like a statement. The strangeness echoed in her mind.

"Did my rounds, collecting caps. Had a drink at the Third Rail--hey, you okay?" He helped her to her feet and she wobbled over. "Was considering inviting you for a drink but you don't look so good."

"I'm... yeah, I'm not feeling very good." She felt top heavy and the world was spinning. She felt on the edge of being drunk and extremely sleepy; even when she closed her eyes, in her mind's eye the walls teetered back and forth against her balance.

"Come on, Kat. Give me your arm." He tried to wrap her arm over his shoulder but she pushed him away.

"No, no, no. I couldn't... possibly bother you right now. With this. With me. Okay? We okay? You okay. Yeah, you okay." She didn't even understand herself anymore. Half of her was stuck in the past while the other half tried desperately to dig into the present, splitting her reality in two. "What's... going on? What's that ringing?"

Hancock sighed, his would-be eyebrows furrowed in a worried upturn. "I'll take you over to the Rex. You can pay me back the caps when you come to. How does that sound?" Katharine let out an unintelligent garble. He draped her over his back and mounted her into a piggyback. "Why am I still talking to you, even?" he mumbled and carried her to the Hotel Rex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little apologetic over how heavy this chapter ended up coming out as.  
> Again, not really proofed.
> 
> Anyway, let's play a game.
> 
> Can you spot the literature references?


	3. Chapter 3

The late morning light was not kind. At first it blinded her and she sat up, rubbing the grog from her eyes. She looked around and then lifted the mothy blanket to look at her body. Her combat armor was stripped off and her suit was unbuckled to the crotch, exposing her bra and panties.

Katharine suddenly needed to go pee. She got up, took a piss, and got dressed without a bath. She packed her bag while she brushed her teeth. _Where's Cait?_ she wondered, and continued to wonder about what happened last night. She exited the room and made her way to the hotel lobby.

"Hey, Clair, do you have any idea--" Chatting away with Clair Hutchins was the very person she was inquiring about: John Hancock.

"Oh, hi, Hancock."

"Came by to check up on you. Think you took a bad batch of med-x last night. Found the syringe laying beside where I found you when I got back." Katharine felt a lurch in her gut and a clench in her chest so strong she held her hand to her chest. Suddenly, she felt claustrophobic.

"I need some air," she said and darted out the front doors. Hancock followed her outside and together they stood in next to the Hotel Rexford's front double doors.

"Left your glasses." He withdrew from an inside pocket a pair of glasses. She took them.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." He shook a cigarette from its paper carton, grabbed it with his mouth, and lit it with a gold plated lighter--the very same she had given him last week. "You wanna talk?"

As blurred as it was, vague flashes of last night had started to come back to her.

"No," she said.

"That's fine," he said, and took a long drag. She watched him puff out the smoke in rings. She got the feeling he was trying to cheer her up.

"That's going to kill you, you know."

"What is?"

"Cigarettes."

He smiled. "You think I don't look dead already?"

"Don't joke. I'd be sad if you died, Hancock."

"Ah, but we all meet that fate one day. Might as well rush towards it doing something I enjoy."

"Say the same thing about chems."

"I do." He nodded along with his words.

"I know, you do. I'm guilty of using, too."

"I know."

They returned to silence for a while, then Cait came around the corner of the Third Rail. Her hair looked wild and eyes squinting under the sunlight. "Here she comes," Katharine mumbled and went to greet her companion. "Hey, girl," she cooed.

"Don't 'hey girl' me. You left me! I was all alone last night 'cause of you."

"You enjoyed it." Katharine winked jokingly.

"Don't do that! Don't encourage my bad behavior. You know I want to quit psycho. Why do you bring me on these trips to Goodneighbor?" Cait glanced over Katharine's shoulder at Hancock and then narrowed her eyes at the young woman. "Oh, I see. You just want some floozy to accompany you to see your bitch."

Katharine's good mood was shot dead, a dozen shotgun pellets embedded in her figurative chest. Her face transformed into one of disgust and anger.

"Cait! How dare you talk like that to me. How dare you talk like that to Hancock. You can't... you... ugh. Go ahead of me. I'll meet you at Sanctuary."

"I'm leaving all right but who knows? I might not be in Sanctuary when you get back." She turned on her heel and left with anger in her footsteps.

Katharine's hands formed fists and her brows were so deeply scowling they were getting sore. A burning sensation bit at the back of her eyes and she blinked rapidly, attempting to make it just go away.

A hand rested firmly on her shoulder, thumb gently rubbing the back of her neck. She could smell him: John Hancock. Resisting the urge to lean into his hand, she kept her gaze on Cait's fleeting form.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"I'm actually a little surprised it took so long for that firecracker to finally blow up at you." His joking tone contradicted his reassuring gesture, and when he saw how hard she was holding back tears the smile slowly faded from his face. "You all right?"

The first thing she shot out was, "I'm not crying because I'm sad."

"That so? Doesn't look that way to me."

"I'm not. Really. I'm mad."

"Mad? Now tell me, why're you mad?"

"She talked like that. To me. To you. I'm so mad at her." She felt like a seven year old dealing with their complicated feelings for the first time.

Hancock smiled again, an attempt at cheering her up. "Calm down, sister. There ain't no trouble done. Just walk it off." He let go of her shoulder and she felt a bit empty. He took a few steps, a funny jig in his step. He spun around. "See?"

She tried to smile back and took a few steps to him, then together they walked to one of the upper rooms of the old state house. There, they each took a double hit of jet and vegged out for an hour. Near the end of their coming down, Hancock said, "Hey, you came here for a reason, right?"

"Yeah," she stammered. "It's about the Institute. And finding Shaun."

"Sure. What'd you want to talk about?"

"It's a little complicated, so I'll just get right to it: I built a molecular transporter to get me into the Institute's walls. I'm about to go find my son. The thing is good for only one use, one person. I'm going in alone, yes, but I'm prepared to face anything to get my son back. When I think about meeting him, as a grown boy, I get this... feeling, in my gut. Like something isn't right. None of this is right. None of this should have happened, and what is wrong with this world? Am I dreaming? Has all this been some bad cryo dream?"

"Ah... hey, Kat..."

Katharine gripped the armrest, her breaths coming in hard and shallow and through her mouth. She could taste the air. She saw the near-panic in Hancock's black eyes, though difficult for her to read. She shut her eyes and cut off her sight, trying to force herself to calm down. She didn't want to start a panic here of all places. _Not in front of him._

She felt him sit down next to her. That was all he did, but it was enough to give her some comfort, a starting place to calm down.

After she calmed, they sat in pleasant silence.

At 5pm, Fahrenheit entered through the closed room doors. Hancock got up and sat on the opposite couch. Katharine didn't take one look at the bodyguard to know it was her.

"Boss, you going down to the Third Rail for dinner or what?"

"Yeah, that's what I was planning on doing," he replied, then to Katharine, "you coming down?"

She shook her head. She'd gotten the comfort she came here seeking. "No, thank you. I think it's about time I head through that transporter," she said and stood to leave.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then. See you when you get back from the other side." Katharine thought he sounded a little too cheerful.

"Yeah. See you." She waved goodbye to Hancock and gave a slight nod to Fahrenheit before taking her leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a gd roll aren't I.
> 
> please tell me what you think, 'kay. this is new ground for me.


	4. where's cait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is really a story about katharine, apparently.

Walking through Institute walls made her feel revolted. In Robotics, she gazed in horror as a giant machine above her created a living person in minutes. It breathed, it talked, and it must've had thoughts, too. She thought of Nick Valentine back in his office in Diamond City, how wretched he had become. He was a Gen 2, and physically paled in comparison to these Gen 3s.

An entirely new and immensely powerful emotion welled up in her when she thought of this. She wanted to give Nick a real body. Curie was already asking about one, why couldn't she do the same for her dear Nick?

Katharine's feelings for Nick were mixed. She felt sorry for him, his god awful sad disposition. At the same time, she felt something very akin to pride, and a special sort of relation due to him having memories of the prewar Nick Valentine. Compared to many of the people Katharine came across in the wasteland, Nick was among the most human she could find.

Nick, himself, had taken on a sort of paternal role in her life; a position whose flag was never taken up until now. And she was everso grateful.

But now she was gazing up at the fake humans and thought of how the Brotherhood was right, but also far too ready to jump the gun. Through her tour, Katharine came to the conclusion that the Institute thought the ends justified the means, and though she would've thought the same 200 years ago, her position had since changed.

For some reason, perhaps an attempt to connect with the artificial humans, Katharine approached one fresh off the assembly line. "Excuse me," she said.

It had a rather innocent expression as it said, "Hello, I'm new here," and continued on through a door.

In BioScience, she was introduced to some fake gorillas. Maybe complete in DNA, but exceedingly far from the real thing, Katharine knew. _They're built the same way as the synths._ It was here she was requested a favor from: to pass along a small packet of seeds to a synth on the surface. This was, at least in her mind, a noble cause, and agreed to do it.

It seemed to her that in every division, upon intruding into the lives of the various top brass personnel, she overheard a conversation already underway pertaining to the morality of what the Institute was conducting. Each time, it was the lower ranking scientist who seemed to have retained their own moral code.

_Maybe this place has a future, if those scientists eventually reach the high ranks. But we don't have time. The Commonwealth cannot wait. Fear is already set upon everyone and soon Terror will begin its feed too. Things need to change, now, and for the better. And right now I'm the only one in the position to begin the cranking of those wheels._

The shock of finally seeing Shaun had yet to truly set in. Not until she transported back to Sanctuary and had a nap did things finally set in. The thought of it terrified her.

Shaun. Sixty years? Her sense of time was fuzzy and once again she was hit with a mental force that confused her entirely.

"I got you your tape," she said and tossed the holotape in Sturges' direction. He barely caught it, but definitely caught onto her lack of feeling.

"Thanks. You okay?"

She made a soft clicking sound with her tongue. _I've been hearing that phrase a lot, lately._ "I'm fine. Just tired," she had replied and went back to her shack for that much needed rest.

When she woke up, hunger was the first thing that hurt her so she walked out to the nearest melon patch and swiped an exceptionally large and juicy one, gave it a quick rinse with a little purified water, and sank her teeth in.

There was a point when she'd have to admit it, even if she didn't like to. Admitting it, speaking it aloud, it was like finally letting such a thing become true. She denied it and said "no" to her heart and willingly got lost in the past to serve as a mental distraction from what was really going on, at first unbeknownst to her but now was weighing hard on her. Often she had said "friend" and then very quickly it was "best friend" and this development was in the absence of hours of time together, instead based instead of her observation of his behavior, their compatibility, and her willingness to cooperate and trust. Trust him.

She trusted him. And she hated it.

"Hey, Katharine, have you seen Cait?" Preston called to her through the red plywood door. She opened it slowly.

"Did she not come back?"

"Didn't she go with you to Goodneighbor?"

"She did, but I sent her off first." They stood in silence for a moment until it dawned on her. "Wait, she never came back?"

"Uh, no. What are you getting at, Katharine?"

"If she's not here, and she left Goodneighbor, there's one place she could be. Think about it, Preston. Where did we pick her up?"

His face came alive with realization. "Combat Zone." Katharine nodded and without further discussion they headed out towards downtown together.

Deciding time was precious and speed a necessity, they jumped into their power armor and took off in a straight line to the Combat Zone. Their travel was quick and arrived in front of the secluded little building at the end of the day but well after the sun had set.

Night time in the wasteland made Katharine uncomfortable so she never travelled alone after dark. Having Preston watch her back made her very comfortable, especially when three bloatflies and a stingwing got the jump on them and they spent twenty minutes spinning around trying to shoot them down in the dark. Sure they had headlights, which made whatever was in front of them clear as day, but made everything outside that rim of light quite a blindspot.

Neither of them wanting to head into the Combat Zone first, they played rock-paper-scissors (something Katharine wasn't going to let go to the ages) just outside the front door. They played three times; Preston winning twice in a row.

Katharine busted through the front doors, through the tiny lobby and down the main aisle to the giant cage. Cait and Tommy were arguing about something by the stage, and they stopped at the intrusion. Cait stood and Tommy spat out, "I told you."

The two Minutemen exited their suits and Cait looked them both up and down. "How'd ya know I was here?"

"Took a wild guess," Katharine said with a smug smile.

"We came to get you," Preston said.

"Well," Cait began and she crossed her arms, "I ain't going back."

"Why not?" Katharine's smile immediately fell and a scowl crawled into her face.

"I don't like you."

"I'm not getting mixed up in this. Have yourself a fun time," Tommy said and left them.

"That's too simple," Katharine countered," I like you, Cait, please come back." She gestured towards Preston. "Even Preston's worried about you."

"You don't care about me."

"Yes, I do. I wouldn't have come here if I didn't."

"Preston didn't talk you into it?" The redhead eyed the anachronistically clad man.

"I didn't say a thing to her about getting you back."

"Posh! Whatever."

"Cait, listen. I know you want to quit psycho. If you want, I'll lock you up in a shack back in Sanctuary and feed you melons by tossing them down to you through a hole in the roof. Oh, and water, too. No psycho. No chems whatsoever."

"You're joking, right?"

"Only if you want it to be a joke."

Cait was appalled. "I'm spitting blood 'cause of my addiction and you want to cleanse me like that? You make a joke out of it?"

"Don't get me wrong, Cait, I just--"

"General, I think all your tact just took a washroom break. Let me say what I think you want to say." Preston rested a hand on Katharine's shoulder and she sighed, relenting to his suggestion.

"Impress me, Garvey," Cait said and crossed her arms.

"What Katharine means to say is that you are a precious friend, to the both of us, and we're both here to help if you need it. If you have something in mind for kicking your habit, we'd love to hear it."

"Aren't you a little charmer." A beat passed and Cait smiled. "Okay, I have an idea. Just something I've heard, though."

"Shoot." Katharine grinned ear to ear, happy to have Cait back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what started as a "falling in love" story ends up being a kind of character analysis.  
> just be patient okay I'll get to juicy hancock lovin' in a bit.  
> need you to know where katharine's comin' from.


	5. i've caught a disease; it's called love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi, listened to "My Favorite Faded Fantasy" by Damien Rice on repeat while writing this. might want to take a peek at the lyrics.

She blew her nose and tossed the tissue in the nearest trashbin.

"You sick or something?"

"I think so. Sorta. Yeah, for sure," she joked.

"Gross. Don't pass it to me." He stood, about to sit on the couch opposite but Katharine grabbed his wrist.

"C'mmere, I'll give you my virus." She made kissy sounds and pulled Hancock down to her face. He yanked himself away and she laughed.

"You get me sick, I'm not giving you anymore chems."

"Touché." She let go.

"Toosh what?" He fell back on the couch next to her.

"Nothing. Something lost to time, I guess."

"That a prewar expression or something?"

"Yeah."

"Hold on," he said and popped in some mentats. "Okay, tell me about it."

She looked at him with scrutiny. "You're not going to learn something just by taking mentats."

"They helped you do the bar exam."

"You don't even know what a bar exam is." She shifted away a bit to get a good look at him. "Don't go blurting out the stuff I say when I'm high. We both know I'm hardly coherent during those times."

"Nah, I listen to everything you say when you're high. What you say gets more exciting the less coherent you get."

Katharine felt a lurch of her gut. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Now that, I'm not going to tell you."

"Don't hold out on me, Hancock," she said. She feared he'd heard her talk too much about her past life.

"I'm not telling you nothing. But you know what I will do? Give you a med-x from one of my pure batches." He got up, walked over to a cooler on his desk and returned with a capped syringe. "Your favorite."

"Med-x, the only opiate for me." Katharine took it with a smile and injected herself while Hancock watched. She felt a mix of shame and excitement. Minutes later she was out cold.

In her mind she was back in the Institute, the same room where she found the synth Shaun except in its place was the baby Shaun. Katharine fell to her knees and crawled to the glass. The ten year old Shaun then appeared and picked up the baby Shaun. Katharine pounded the glass once to get his attention. "Shaun!" She hit the glass again, harder this time. The child Shaun looked up at her, his face innocent and relaxed. "Shaun! Open the door!" she said though there was no door.

Child Shaun shook his head and pressed an index finger to his lips in a hushing fashion. The elderly Shaun then showed up, resting a reassuring hand on the child Shaun's shoulder. He looked sad. Katharine was crying. "Shaun!" she sobbed. The elderly Shaun also shook his head. "Please, baby... open the door! I.. I'm so sorry." Her hands slid down the glass and she sobbed thick gooey tears on all fours like a sorry-sick dog. Her eyes burned and she blinked, tears rolling down her cheeks, tears dripping from her dark eyelashes.

A gentle hand rested on her back and she instinctively believed it was Nate. She hung her head and cried out, "None of this should've happened. None of it. It's all just a bad dream. This isn't real. None of this is real.... ugh." The lone hand comforted her and it smoothly moved up her back to rest at the small of her collarbone, thumb massaging the back of her neck. "Nate..!" she sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I can do this. I can't do this alone." Her body shook. "I need you," she moaned.

She frantically grabbed the hand at her neck, but the skin slipped off like a glove. Katharine stared at the shell of bloody skin in the palm of her hand, at first coolly, distantly; but the realization set in. She stood, spun around and saw Nate, picture perfect as she'd last saw him alive--and then she saw his skin and clothes melt away. Her entire vision melted away and in Nate's place stood him: John Hancock.

At first she was horrified, but as Hancock's image emerged she fell to her knees at his feet and sobbed. She looked up at his face, saw him grow a smile. Wordlessly, he helped her up, and she noticed behind him were all the companions she'd met so far: Preston and Piper and Nick, Dogmeat, Strong. Even Paladin Danse. Codsworth and Curie hung around to the right and Deacon and Cait were to the left--though she didn't quite like Deacon, she was still glad he was there.

What was horror faded into a kind of warmth. Katharine looked into Hancock's smiling face and mimicked it effortlessly.

But this was just a dream.  
Her son was sixty years old and her husband was dead. The truth never escaped her. Why did she take chems, anyway? They never hid the pain, they just framed it in a more horrifying way. Chems just hurt her, like everything else. What was this world?

Katharine jolted awake and gasped for air. Her heart was loud and she felt like throwing up. Tears bit the back of her eyes as if threatening to blind her. Faintly she smelled cigarette smoke and strongly she tasted the chems and radiation in the air. Her eyes were wide and frantic in their wild look around. It was night, she sat on the red couch, moonlight casting shadows from the single unboarded window behind her. The lamp was shut off. It didn't feel real.

A neighborhood watchman opened the double doors, saw her gasping for air, panicked himself, and rushed to get Hancock from the Third Rail. Five minutes later Hancock was in the room with her, room doors shut and they alone.

Katharine clawed at her throat, the feeling of being suffocated, a tightening hand lingering there. The first thing Hancock did was rest a hand on her back. She jolted away from his touch, the her body remembering what had happened in the dream and not wanting a repeat of what had happened.

"Kat, hey, Kat. You hear me? Listen to me. It's going to be okay." Hancock wanted to swear but didn't want to draw that into the situation. He didn't touch her and instead simply talked to her.

"Shaun. He's old. Nate, he's dead. My family, they're gone. My friends, they're gone. Everyone is gone. Shaun, I only have Shaun, but he's... he's... become the director of the Institute! It's all melting!" Katharine grabbed her head and shook it sideways, trying to get the image of an adult Shaun from her mind as if it were something desperately clinging behind her eyelids. Everything had changed, her entire world was gone. Except her. Why her? "Why me," she sobbed.

Hancock kneeled down in front of her face; she could smell the alcohol in his breath. "Listen to me, Katharine. This'll pass," he said. She dared to open her eyes. He tried to smile, hoping she'd copy him, but her deep frown was firmly set. She hated this. She hated that this was happening to her in front of Hancock. She wished she was back in her shack in Sanctuary, dealing with the panic attack on her own.

She hated that it was Hancock trying to soothe her, and not Nate.

"I know you're afraid. The future is scary--this future is scary. The way you're acting is all right. But I'm here for you. I'm here to help. You're safe with me. Come on, breathe."

Fifteen minutes passed, and Hancock didn't leave her side. Katharine wondered if Hancock ever dealt with someone having a panic attack before, and figured this couldn't have been his first time.

"You all right there?" He passed her an opened can of purified water and she drank it greedily.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Man, you had me going there. Was afraid you'd finally lost it."

"Don't tell me that now."

"Right. Sorry. How you feeling?"

"Exhausted."

"Figured you'd say that. Come on. I'll walk you over to the Rex. A little night air'll do you some good. Trust me," he said, and when she took those first steps outside she was glad at how right he was.

Hancock arranged a room for her and then walked her to it. He followed her inside, helped to remove her armor and unbuckle her uniform, and draped the blanket over her.

"Can you stay?" she asked. Katharine had a pleading look about her eyes and he grinned.

"Sure," he said. He locked the door and sat in a dilapidated armchair across the room.

"I'm cold," she said, "can you come here?"

"I can get you another blanket," he suggested. She gently shook her head.

"No. I want you to lay with me." Except for her desires, Katharine's mind was clear. Maybe finally she'd face herself. "Please?"

Hesitantly, Hancock stood, removed his hat and red coat and walked over to the occupied spring mattress. Katharine's stomach did flips as he looked down at her with hunger and pity. "You don't have to get under the covers." He nodded and climbed into bed, kicking off his boots and reaching over her to lay on his side behind her against the wall. He snaked an arm under the pillow beneath Katharine's head while the other wrapped around her middle. She felt his breath on her hair and a chill ran down her spine as the warmth briefly graced the back of her neck.

For the first time since unfreezing, Katharine felt truly calm, blissful, at ease. She felt at home and cared for. She wiggled into his body and fell asleep.

When she came to, they were still spooning. It must have been sunrise. There was a chill in the air. She coughed, her throat feeling a little sore.

"You awake?" he asked.

"Mhm."

"How you feeling?"

"Tired, still. You? Did you sleep?"

"I did, some. Wanna get up and get some breakfast?"

"I want to stay here."

"Really? I'm hungry." Katharine detected a hint of lust in his words and she tensed. His textured hand glided up and inside her suit, stroking her bare stomach. He traced the pattern of her stretchmarks, following the small ridges and thin rivers. They were like grassroots running down her lower belly. "Hey," he said sounding pleasantly surprised, "you have bumps, too!"

"Stretch marks; from Shaun," she explained.

"I heard of that. Never seen it before. ... Never got to touch it, either." He tacked on the last bit, sounding smug. His fingers traced an imaginary line around her navel and up to the middle of her bra where the ancient metal snap buttons, untouched by any man for centuries, now waited. Hancock lacked hesitation. His fingers graced the bra fabric and her hand immediately grabbed his wrist. She gingerly moved to rest her hand atop his and then entwined their fingers. She brought his hand to her face and ever so gently kissed the inside of his wrist.

Hancock propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over her. She looked up at him, searched his face for a clue to what he was thinking but only to try and deny the entire experience. His serious expression never faltered, and she gave in.

She closed her eyes. "John." Her pleading voice was just above a whisper. He didn't smile when he leaned in to kiss her.

He was soft and gentle at first. She felt his bumpy flesh against her lips and didn't quite like how foreign it felt. Their hands parted and Hancock continued his daring exploration of her body. He made quick work of the metal snaps and massaged her breasts. She moaned in his mouth, encouraging him. He grinned against her lips, and worked her body all morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so tired.  
> things get kinda fucked up and raunchy when I write while exhausted.  
> not getting explicit, sorry. i'm fucking terrible when it comes to erotic lit. imagine what you will.
> 
> near the end. enjoy it while it lasts.


	6. slow goin'

She'd done it. For a while they didn't speak after, just spooned in the nude with the thin sheet covering them, their clothes strewn across the floor. She felt warmth radiate through her body whenever he kissed the back of her neck and smiled. His flesh felt taut and smooth and warm. She was mesmerized every time he tensed his muscles, watching in awe as his flesh constricted and twisted further.

"Tell me about yourself," she said.

"Like what?" He let go of her, sat up, and lit a cigarette.

"I don't know. Something more."

"I wanna hear more about prewar life than bore you with mine." He grinned down at her.

"No, I want to hear about you."

"Well, all right. What d'you wanna know?"

"You once told me you and McDonough grew up on the waterfront? What was it like?"

"I liked the water. Had okay parents. You wouldn't believe how many times mirelurks came around."

"Did you ever have trouble with raiders?"

"Sure, a few times. But who doesn't? You practically grow up sucking your thumb on one hand and holding a pistol in the other. Living out there like that, farming and fishing, it's a wholesome life. I admire people who do that kind of thing. Wanna stand up for them."

"Yeah..."

"Isn't that what you do? With the Minutemen. Go around the Commonwealth, putting up settlements and then defending them?"

"Sorta. I want to give settlers the chance to not just live, but thrive."

"How're things different from your childhood?"

"A lot of things are different. Too many. I don't want to bring it all up, too many bad things, but I'll tell you it's the same shit just in a different form. In the mess that was my past life, the only ray of light I had was Nate."

"Your husband," he said and Katharine thought he sounded almost withdrawn from the conversation.

"Yes. He was the single constant in my life from childhood to... well..." She paused, her clouded and started to sting. She frowned and scowled. Hancock gently caressed her cheek.

"You don't have to talk about it."

"No, I do. Because I realize now it's never going to disappear." She blinked her eyes repeatedly and then continued, "I feel like I took Nate away. Like maybe... If I hadn't kissed him that night, he would have found someone else, been happy. Maybe survived long enough to die of old age--"

"Hey." Hancock's firm voice cut through her ashamed ramblings. He reached over her, picked up the dirty ashtray, and put out his cigarette. "Look at me. ... Look at me!" Reluctantly, she turned over onto her back and looked up at Hancock above her. "You do good now. You can't blame yourself for what happened. It sounds to me like you're just running from your past."

"But I'm dirty." She coughed back a sob that ended up sounding like she were choking.

"Listen, being with you made me realize something. I've been running, just like you, from all the good things I've got. Skipped out on my family, my life in Diamond City. Offered to go with you just so I could get out of Goodneighbor." He paused and his breath hitched. "Hell, running from myself is what turned me into a ghoul."

"You? Running from yourself?" Katharine tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. He chuckled pitifully.

"I didn't always look this good," he said and she smiled. "The drug that made me like this? Turned me into a ghoul? I knew what it was going to do." He scowled and she massaged the spot where his would-be eyebrows would've knitted together, easing out his expression.

"Why did you take it, then?"

Hancock rubbed the back of his head. "I couldn't stand looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror every morning. This was the coward who'd let all those ghouls in Diamond City die, who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys. I never wanted to look at that face again, and if I took that drug, I knew I never would. I thought I could put everything behind me, be free, live life again. Didn't seem like a choice at all."

"It shouldn't matter what you did in the past. What you do now? How you change things for the better? That's what matters."

Hancock grinned and nodded. "Easy to give advice to others than it is to yourself, isn't it?"

Suddenly self-conscious, Katharine pulled the covers up to her chin and Hancock laughed in a low and gruff voice. She turned back on her side and looked at the chair across the room, at their clothes on the floor. He bent down and kissed the corner of her eye. "But, you know, being here with you, for the first time in my life things just feel right." He rubbed her arm through the sheets, trying to reassure her. He smelled her hair and stroked his fingers through the black flat strands. "And running? It's the furthest thing from my mind."

Katharine looked at him but when their eyes met she quickly shifted them away. "You mean it?"

"I mean, well, when I offered to go with you I thought I'd just sharpen the old killer instinct and then head back when all your business was done. But whether it's fate, or destiny, or just goddamn coincidence, it was you I ended up with, and I'm not regretting it one bit." He traced kisses from her ear down her neck, shoulder, and arm, an animalistic vigour with each peck of his lips.

"I turned one of the nastiest neighborhoods in the Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I'd done good. But hearing your exploits over the radio, Minuteman General Katharine, makes me think just how small time I've been thinking. How can one woman travel all across the Commonwealth and do so much good?"

"You're exaggerating." He stuffed his face in the small of her neck and breathed in.

"Maybe the sad part is that I'm not. I feel like I've finally found the piece of myself I never thought I was missing."

"Like your toe," she giggled and he laughed along with her.

"Exactly. You've been... been..." His movements halted and she looked back at him curiously.

"Hancock?" He let go of her and laid down on his back. She turned over and propped herself up on an elbow. "What's wrong?"

He smiled a sad smile. "You've been one hell of a friend."

"Oh... I see." Her stomach fell and her chest clenched. She laid back down and together they were side by side on their backs, still naked and blanket at their waists. She laughed bitterly at the situation. "You ever... thought of us as more than just friends?" Katharine stammered out the words as if it were her first confession. She wondered where her courage left to.

There was a long silence. Katharine's chest hurt and her eyes stung and her nose was getting stuffy but she chewed on her lower lip and waited for his reply. She wished she had med-x right about now. She prepared her heart for his rejection.

But he laughed a pitiful, low laugh. "Hell," he said and smiled at her. "It that obvious?"

Katharine stared at him, frozen. It was as if her mind had been steamrolled, and the operator: John Hancock. Her heart was lit aflame and fireworks exploded within her head. "That means you have?" He nodded.

"But come on, you don't want to wake up to this ugly mug every morning, do you? Never wish that on anyone I care for."

His words lingered in her mind: 'Never wish that on anyone I care for.' Moths flew around in her gut and she suddenly felt nauseous. She jumped out of bed and opened the window, stuck her head out and took long, deep breaths. He seemed amused by this because he said, "Did the thought of that just frighten you?" and laughed.

But she shook her head and waved her hand for him to approach. He climbed out of the noisy spring mattress and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "You want this? Wouldn't you want someone else like that Minuteman? Or Cait?" He snuggled into her body, pressing against her so their bodies were flush.

"John," she said once she'd calmed herself down, and then continued with a humorous tone, "you don't really have the right to tell me who I fall for, you know?" She smiled. He kissed the hollow of her neck and smelled her hair. He took her hands and massaged circles in her palms. "I love you. That's my decision."

Hancock laughed the kind of laugh where he threw his head back and squeezed her breasts as if by reflex. "Wouldn't have expected that kind of lapse in judgement from you!" he said. "What is it about me that's got you so crazy?"

Katharine shrugged. "You're supportive in more ways than one. You're kind to those deserving and ruthless to those not. I like what you've made of Goodneighbor; it's something I really admire you for. A fantastic home away from home. You..." She paused and thought carefully about how to phrase her words. "I need you. By my side. I'm sure I would've just fallen apart if it weren't for you. I'm so grateful but so ashamed."

"Ashamed how."

"It never should have happened." She frowned and scowled into the streets below. "I should have been stronger. I should have been able to stand on my own two feet. The wasteland, it... terrifies me. I mean, the beauty leaves me awestruck but the danger leaves me shivering. Ninety percent of the time I just block it out all out, bite away the fear and get by on instinct and adrenaline."

"I get what you're saying. I've lived like that, too. But we're only human; we're either born with faults or they're carved into us. Everyone's gonna need an extra hand to help them out, or some place to rest their heads."

"Mhm," she mumbled and wrapped her arms around her body. Hancock tightened his grip on her torso.

"Come on, come to bed." He pulled her away from the window and back into the warmth of iron springs and cotton sheets. They snuggled close, sharing warmth and touching flesh. At the edge of sleep she heard him whisper in her ear, "Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull."

"Why's that?"

"No one like me should be this lucky," he replied, his voice suddenly seductive. He nibbled her earlobe and she pushed his face away.

"Tired," was her curt explanation and he laughed, settling for just trailing kisses across her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm actually a bit worried hancock's a bit ooc here but didn't know how else to move the scene forward. idk if you could pick it out or not.
> 
> anyone pick out those literature references from that previous chapter? No one's said anything about it yet, makes me a little disappointed :c
> 
> btw got finals and essay to work on so slow goin' from here (as you might've noticed).


	7. christmas is coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katharine reminisces about the past, has a talk with Preston, and then sets up a Christmas event in Goodneighbor with Hancock.

Dizzy and drunk and tripping over her own feet, Katharine was guided out of the energetic gym and into the parking lot outside. Intrusive and obnoxious jazz fell out of the door after them and then trickled down as the pair wandered across the field and around the bleachers.

"Hey, Katharine?" Nate called after her, following her and the palm that held her wrist. She looked back at him and giggled, alcohol on her breath.

"Hi, Nate," she spewed and giggled.

"What does the retard want?"

"Hey," she said, "he isn't a retard."

"Whatever. What does he want?"

She turned to Nate. "What is it, Nate?" she asked and tried to smile.

Nate was saddened by the sight of Katharine running off with this big sports player, captain of the football team.

"Nothing," he stammered out.

"That it then? Let's go, Kathy. I'm getting so goddamn horny I'm about to fucking burst, here."

"Bye, Nate," she said and allowed herself to be pulled away into the darkness of the bleachers. Nate stood there on the field, car headlights flashing behind him as they took their responsible drivers and inebriated passengers home. Sneaking liquor into a high school dance was no easy feat but when you have Katharine's money and the football captain's popularity it was as simple as breathing.

Nate took the bus home. He was treated by Katharine to a coffee the next morning and then seven weeks later they graduated. Ten months later they shared their first kiss and their first embrace and then eight years after that Katharine was pregnant. She had her first panic attack so Nate proposed and they were married. Shaun was born and they lived in absolute bliss for three months.

Nate's family gave them a Mr Handy and it was Nate who gave it the name Codsworth. Katharine's mother didn't even show up for the wedding, but her father came with his mistress and their child. He gave the newlyweds the keys to their new house.

Katharine said she didn't want anymore kids so she started using birth control. 9/10 times it was she who initiated sex. She was erotic and sexual in the bedroom and bought skimpy lingerie without shame. She only wore enough makeup to make her cheeks a little more red, her nose a little less, and some lip tint. She was always up in fashion and sometimes high on some valium.

After years of breaking up and getting back together like the highs and lows of the ocean's tide, lawful marriage seemed to be what truly held them together. Katharine became a homemaker in the image of some television show character. She got a haircut but thought she looked too much like her mother.

In the wasteland, with the matting and mess, Katharine thought she needed the 'ready to fucking smack you silly!' kind of look. She thought it was somewhat humorous to gain her mother's furious facade at such a time.

"Hey, you coming or not?" Preston waved a hand before her face and Katharine snapped back into reality.

"Huh?"

He laughed. "Look, I know you're excited about getting together with Hancock and all but I need you coming with me to check up on the broadcasting beacon." Katharine looked up at Preston's face and then past him to a completely passed out Hancock in the corner of the room, half his body draped over a sofa's armrest and ass pointing to the ceiling.

"Yes, sure," she said and stood up. She followed him outside and took a sharp breath in when the cold night air brushed up against her cheek. She shivered and linked arms with the Minuteman walking beside her. "It's freezing!"

"Winter creeps up when you least expect it, isn't that right?" he replied with a smile. "Gotta exercise more to keep your body warm, blood pumping. Go run a few laps around Sanctuary." She laughed and pushed into him.

"Nice try," she said and yawned. "I think I'll take a raincheck."

"Suit yourself, frozen fingers." He pinched her chilled hands and chuckled low. They reached the broadcasting beacon, iron triangles and metal dishes reaching up into the sky. Katharine climbed up and re-calibrated the dishes while Preston did some maintenance on the electrical components on the ground. When they were done they laid out some cardboard on the ground and drank whiskey while looking up at the sky, their backs leaning against the cold beacon.

"So," Preston began and passed the bottle to Katharine, "you and Hancock, huh?" She laughed and took a swig.

"That's hardly anything new," she commented. It had been two weeks since she and Hancock got together. They didn't tell anyone the specifics, instead flaunting PDA as if it were a new toy and leaving everyone else to do the guesswork.

"You're like a cat and a dog. How'd you two end up together, huh?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't really mean anything by it. Just surprised is all. You're very different people, and I'm happy for you but shit I wouldn't want to see you get hurt anytime soon."

"Because of him?" Preston nodded. "I think you've got this all backwards. If you're afraid of him running out on me--it's more likely I'm to run out on him." She gave a sad laugh and took another swig of whiskey before handing it back to Preston.

Amused, Preston said, "Cats and dogs, I swear."

"Who's the cat and who's the dog?"

"What, you don't want to guess?"

Katharine thought a moment. "Well, Hancock gets along well with Dogmeat. I do, too, though."

Preston laughed. "He's definitely the dog. I see how he follows you around--" he shook his head "--not with his body, but with his eyes. Always watching you."

"He's definitely not a lost puppy type."

"No, he isn't. He's more like... ferocious guard dog type. Crinkle one hair on your head and he's on them like a mirelurk protecting her clutch."

Katharine remembered the battle at the Castle, defeating the mirelurk queen and smashing all her eggs. She was sure Preston was thinking the same memory when he said that.

"That was one hell of a battle," she said and grinned ear to ear.

"It was," he said and nodded. He took two big gulps and wiped his mouth. They took turns passing the glass bottle until the moon was well past its midpoint; at which time Hancock had woken up and began his hunt for his lover.

He found her dazed and dizzy next to a considerably less so Preston Garvey. Hancock gave him a persecuting eye and Preston smiled.

"She would have drank the entire bottle if I weren't here to share it with her," he said. He got to his feet and picked up his cardboard box. "Well, I'm heading in. Night, you two."

"Night, Garvey," Hancock said and helped Katharine to her feet. She wobbled then leaned into him. He grabbed the cardboard box and together waddled back to Katharine's shack of a home. He sat her down on her cleaner than average mattress, stripped her down, and then guided her head to the brown pillow. He undressed and climbed in behind her, pulled up the three blankets--cotton, hemp, and brahmin leather--and then wrapped his arms around the shivering woman.

"Hancock," she whispered.

"What's up?"

"It's really cold."

"Yeah, you're like ice. Think you drank too much and stayed out in the cold for too long." He grinned. "Don't worry. I'll warm you up." He rubbed her arm, kissed her shoulder, and pulled her body closer to his.

"Christmas is coming up," she said.

"It is."

"Do you do anything special?"

"Normally? No. Not since I was a kid but even then it wasn't anything you could call special."

"Oh. I see."

"Why?"

"Would you like to?"

"You want to?"

She nodded. "In prewar, Christmas was wonderful."

"What was it like?"

"There was color and food and gifts and people would at least pretend to be nice. My entire extended family would gather at our mansion's great hall and the cooks would make dozens of dishes of delicious food. I'd get every gift on my wishlist. One time I got a puppy but I didn't like her so we gave her away and my uncle got me a cat instead."

"Spoiled brat."

"That was me!" she said and laughed.

"You're completely different now, though."

"Mm. Yeah. Kind of. I miss all that stuff, but I know now that I can live without it all."

"So you want to do all that stuff? I can pull it off in Goodneighbor, if you want."

"Yeah! We can do a secret santa, too."

"What's that?"

"You put everyone's name in a hat--or maybe a box, in our case. And then everyone draws a name. They have to get a gift for that person. But it's all secret! No one's supposed to know who they got their gift from."

"Doesn't sound too difficult. We can do that. I'll get a couple of the neighborhood watch to go hunting. Get some of the gals to help decorate and we can all do some cooking."

"Think we can invite some people from the settlements?"

"Uhh. Yeah, sure. If they're cool with ghouls."

"I'll broadcast it over the radio. I'll tell them they need to bring some food, too."

"Damn, this is starting to sound pretty great. I'm starting to look forward to it!"

"Mm, me too." She yawned. "Let's start tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"Yeah. Good night, love." He reached over and kissed her on the lips. She caught him and kissed back for a moment before licking her lips and smiling.

"Good night," she said and they went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so  
> tired.
> 
> good night.


	8. timeout

Diamond City was decorated all over, and people seemed slightly more cheery than usual, minus the one person who told her, "Ho ho bloody fucking ho," on her way to Nick's. She knocked on the door. He opened it and then the two of them plus Ellie went off to Goodneighbor.

It was Christmas eve, and there was a planned two-day event set up by Hancock and Katharine. Included was a raffle (hosted by the Hotel Rexford's Fred Allen and Rufus Rubins, with various "pure" chems and ice cold beverages as prizes), discounted food and drink at the Third Rail, as well as a "bring your own dish" banquet held in the open area outside Memory Den. The entirety of the town was decorated in a holiday style.

When the trio arrived, they were met with an overwhelming welcome. Ellie bought 100 caps worth of raffle tickets, much to Nick's disapproval, and her only excuse was, "I want ice cold nuka-cola, Nick."

"Look at all the things you could win, and you only want the ice cold nuka-cola? You're wasting your caps."

"I'm going to get the ice cold nuka-cola."

Katharine laughed and said, "Good luck, Ellie, but the odds are against you, you know."

"I'll get the ice cold nuka-cola," Ellie repeated, as if it were a future-altering mantra. Ellie and Nick went to visit Dr Amari and Irma at the Memory Den while Katharine took a detour into the old state house. She didn't even have to say anything:

"Hancock's upstairs," said a neighborhood watchman and she smiled, embarrassed. She nodded her head in thanks and then went upstairs.

"Hancock?" she called and he stood up from his sofa to greet her with a kiss on the lips lasting too long to be appropriate in front of company.

"Good to see you," he said as he looked her in the eyes and then sat back down on the sofa. She replied in kind and then took a seat next to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulled her into him, and gave her another kiss on the corner of her mouth--all without looking away from the drifter across from him. Hancock continued his conversation in stride, not once looking away or having a dip in attention, but clearly and very physically interacting with Katharine at the same time.

When the drifter left, Hancock wrapped his other arm around her torso under her breasts and gave her a very comforting hug, smothering his face into her breasts. "I missed these," he said.

She tilted her head back and laughed. "It's only been five days." They sat without words for a bit, each listening to the paced and peaceful breathing of the other. Hancock, with his head squished into Katharine's chest, could hear her quickly beating heart and his love and admiration for her swelled in knowing he was the cause for it. "I missed you, too," she said quietly. His arms tightened reflexively and his fingers drew circles on the back of her body where her clothing was thin. There was a chill in the air but their bodies were warm against each other and they cuddled for fifteen minutes.

Hancock suddenly let go, stood up, and helped Katharine to her feet. "Where's Nick and Ellie?" he asked.

"They went to visit the Memory Den."

"Let's go meet them there," he said and they took off together.

"Who was that you were talking with?" she asked as they spiraled down the stairs.

"A drifter coming into town for the festivities," he said and shot her a smile.

"What did he want?"

"Wondered if we're going to be hosting more of these little parties. Said if we are, he'd like to help, and wanted to come live here. Permanently."

"That's good news, right?"

"Well, you see, I don't know if we'll be doing more of these things. Next Christmas, yeah probably. But, uh, what other holidays are there? New Year's? Easter?"

"New Year's can take care of itself. There will be no shortage of people wanting to have a good time, right?"

"You're right about that. Things tend to get a little crazy around here the closer we get to the new year, but it gets dangerous, too." They crossed the street and Hancock lit a cigarette. "You go ahead inside. I'm gonna socialize a bit before heading inside." Katharine entered the Memory Den and joined the others.

"With the weather so frigid outside, I worried the food was going to go cold, but it seems it'll be okay," Irma said and blew rings of smoke. Katharine asked where her Silvershroud sidekick was. "Kent is helping the watch setup a few tents to cover the food tables, and relight fires."

"He's helping out instead of disappearing into his memory pod. This time of year? Good on him," Nick said and then turned to Katharine. "I bet this has to do with that Silvershroud gig you did with him."

"You think? Well, I'm glad to see him getting out more often, yeah, for sure."

Hancock entered the building and was followed by a gust of frigid air. He approached Katharine from behind, gave her butt a quick squeeze and then took his place beside her. "Thanks for showing up, Nick, Ellie," he said and then to Irma, "and thanks for offering to put these guys up until tomorrow. Trying to make sure no one's out in the cold tonight. Gonna be cold."

"I should take this chance to thank the both of you, as well, for setting up this Christmas event. I doubt Goodneighbor has seen such a celebration in decades," Dr Amari said and looked at Hancock and Katharine, who both mentioned it was no big deal.

The group chatted some more before heading outside for the first raffle draw, which Ellie did not win. When the dinner buffet was laid out Hancock and Katharine left everyone to escape into the state house's attic. They had sex and cuddled for an hour until someone started calling for Hancock. He left to check on something.

Katharine laid on the dirty mattress on the floor, a thin and moth-eaten blanket laid across her abdomen to her calves. She felt horny again and thought of Nate so she reached over, dug through her pockets, and pulled out a syringe of med-x. She self medicated her cravings and desires with the dulling-but-happiness-inducing opiate of her dreams, seeing ghosts where there were none.

The ends of her fingers and toes numbed, the sensation growing ever inward, clawing itself up her veins into her nervous system and eating away at her flesh with the goal of seizing her heart.

The matter of her overdosing one day wasn't really one of if but when and would she live through it to see the sun on the other side? Would her heart stop and flesh become cold? Her vision began to blur so she closed her tired eyes and on the lids of which saw Nate sitting on a chair in a white and empty room. Slowly, the room was filled with the current-past. Too much art, too much music. Too many models and actors and people and liars and opportunists. Too much pressure.

She remembered when she tried playing with her kitten, and it scratched her. The pain stung anew and she opened her eyes and looked down at her hand in realtime to see the tiny little sliver of lighter colored skin, slightly raised. Briefly amazed that such a small scratch from her youth had formed a scar and held out with her today, centuries later, she kissed it.

"I don't like her anymore," the young Katharine had said. Nate approached the kitten and the kitten sniffed his fingers before giving them a quick lick and nudging his palm. "How'd you do that!"

Nate laughed. "You have to make nice, Katharine. Move slow. It's okay to approach first, but always let her close the distance."

"Why?"

"Shows you that she's willing to give you a chance. It shows she has some sort of trust in you."

"But she's my gift. She belongs to me." She pouted and crossed her arms. Nate shook his head.

"No, Katharine. This kitten is a living creature. Like you and me. We don't belong to anyone, so neither does she." He then touched her cheek, fingertips gently grazing the swollen purple bruise that called it home. He leaned in and kissed the bruise. She started crying. Nate pulled away immediately and held her by her shoulders. "I'm sorry! Did it hurt?"

The young Katharine shook her head and said, "No."

"Why are you crying?" She wrapped her arms around him and they held their position for an hour, broken only by the butler fetching them for dinner.

Hancock came back and shook her free from her trip into the past. She stared up at the ceiling. Tears suddenly appeared and distorted her vision and she squished her palms into her eye sockets, cramming the tears back into their ducts. Hancock, surprised by her sudden tears, pulled her into his embrace and held her to his open chest, his flesh creviced and pulled tight.

She threw her arms over his shoulders and clung to his coat. She sobbed into his body. But she didn't want this. Her mind was filled with the afterimage of Nate, his body grown and soft and just for her.

She beat Hancock's back and growled in frustration. She screamed in the hollow of her mind.

_I wish you weren't my ghost._

She eventually stopped crying and they just held each other. "You okay?" he asked. She didn't reply. "Why you crying for?" She clenched her teeth, pushed him down on the mattress, and like a starving lioness joined her mouth with his. Their tongues entwined greedily and she rocked her naked body against his clothed body. "Hold on," he panted and yanked his pants down. He entered her but her feeling of emptiness didn't go away and she felt like scum lower than the radioactive filth littering the world.

There was no doubt in her mind that she loved Hancock--his freedom and honesty, his unfaltering will and devotion and determination--but she never made peace with Nate's death and his memory was eating the back of her mind. She felt it tingle at the base of her skull like a butterfly's kiss and at times when she was weak it took over her mind. Three months was no time to get over a husband, a friendship that lasted her entire life and, until recent, comforted her while she sank deep into the dark recesses of her mind.

"When's the rest of the folks coming?" Hancock asked.

"Tomorrow. They're arriving around noon," she said. She laid on his chest and his arm wrapped under and around her body. His fingers tapped an unknown rhythm on her upper arm and the gesture calmed her thoughts and soothed her into a lull. She followed the ridges along his bare chest and this, too, helped to calm her spirit.

On the edge of sleep, she whispered, "I love you."

Hancock grinned, close to passing out, and gave her arm a little squeeze. "Love you, too."

Christmas day came and the population of Goodneighbor nearly doubled. It was very festive. Ellie didn't win the raffle, but Katharine managed to get her an ice cold nuka-cola anyway. Many people did bring their own food and none of it went cold in the hours of the celebration. Extra couches were brought in from surrounding buildings, one group even running into a small band of super mutants, but it wasn't something Katharine couldn't handle. Gifts were exchanged and opened--people were nothing if not creative with their various wrapping paper choices.

By the time midnight rolled around many people had already passed out from alcohol or drugs or sheer exhaustion. Clair was happy to have so many people staying at the hotel who weren't just looking to nurse themselves after shooting up with junk, and took the time out of her normal routine to find Hancock and Katharine and personally thank them.

A lot of people did that. Katharine felt smothered and choked by how many people approached her to thank her for the event, how it brought so many other people a solace to have this little window of festive happiness amidst this radioactive world. She thought it made Hancock a little uncomfortable, too. He was nonchalant about the thank-yous he was getting, but Katharine knew he was actually just preoccupied with security. It would be pretty bad if they were suddenly under attack.

At three in the morning, the star couple stumbled out of the Third Rail and up into the old state house, relying as much on each other as they did on the walls and railing to keep upright.

Something had been chewing at her since the night before, and now, in the calm after a vibrant party, she had to bring Hancock up to speed. They laid in a mattress that was on a half broken metal bedframe. They undressed and got ready for bed. Katharine stood at the foot of the bed in her underwear and looked down at her lover before her.

"Something up?" he asked when he noticed she wouldn't be joining him.

"I want to... talk about something."

He picked up something off in her voice. "Sure, shoot," he said.

She took a deep breath and sat on the bed and he sat up and crossed his legs. "My condition hasn't gone away," she said.

"You haven't had any attacks recently. I'd call that an improvement."

"But I still see and feel things. That are weird."

"You been taking more med-x than usual," he commented.

She shot him a glare. "I'm self medicating myself with it. More med-x is the solution, not the problem. I need to fix what's wrong in in the first place. Numb it until it falls off."

"Sounds to me like you're still just running away from the problem."

"You don't even know what the problem is--"

"How am I supposed to know if you won't tell me?" he growled. "I'm a ghoul, not psychic. Let me in, Kat."

Her glare faltered and her brows scowled and lips pouted. She looked away, down into her fiddling fingers, elbows rested on her knees. She couldn't look at him. "Anyway," she began and Hancock sighed. She took a deep breath and continued. "I think until I have things put together, we shouldn't see each other. Not like this, I mean. I mean, we should take a break."

He shook his head. "Timeout. What did you say?" She didn't answer, having become suddenly fascinated by the creases on her knuckles. Hancock got off the bed, crouched down in front of her, and placed his face into her line of sight. His hands gripped her thighs and she looked away from his eyes. "Look at me," he said. She did not. "Look at me!" he growled and moved into her view again and this time their eyes locked. "Is this what you really want?"

"Yes."

"Explain to me how you came about this decision."

"I love you, Hancock."

"You love me, so why do you want to break up with me?"

"Don't make it sound like that, John. I'll just spill it out for you. I'm still in love with Nate. It's only been three months and--"

"Your ex-husband."

"Yes. I know it's technically been sixty years but it was just three months for me and do you have any idea what kind of person he was to me?" She took a deep breath as she really understood what she just said.

"No, but I'm getting a good idea," he said.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, John. This is why I didn't want to talk at length about it. My mind is so messed up inside. I am going to say something crude. But please understand, I'm not trying to hurt you. I love you, but I love Nate, too. And I can't get over him just yet. It's like... it feels like by moving forward in time, by getting intimate with you, I'm leaving him behind. Like I'm going to lose his memory and with it a piece of my sanity. I've already failed in protecting our son, I can't... do this to him."

"You're really laying it out for me, aren't you."

"I don't want to intentionally hide things from you. I don't think I've ever wanted to. I've been thinking about this for a little while now, I just couldn't say everything before. It's hard enough for me now. But I know for sure that you love me, and that you will stand by me." She pursed her lips and blinked her eyes, trying to erase the tears threatening to fall. She took an uneven, deep breath and let out a single pitiful laugh. "I was pretty surprised when you suggested me going ghoul, too. I thought it was amazing that you'd be willing to live out the coming centuries with my condition."

"Well yeah. Why not? I thought we were doing pretty well, minus the few hiccups, but what relationship doesn't have that? I thought that, if given enough time, you'd be able to sort yourself out some more. And I'd help you with that." He got up from the floor and sat next to her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into him. She wiped her face. "You've done so much for the Commonwealth. You took me out of Goodneighbor and helped me get in touch with the people again. You're great with a gun, better in bed, and you look out for the innocent. I fell in love with you, you fell in love with me. I haven't felt this way about anyone before. Why wouldn't I be willing to spend the rest of my life with you?" He rubbed her upper arm and she shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know. I wouldn't want to be with me," she said and gave another pitiful laugh.

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. I see you do that too often."

"I know."

"So you still want that time apart, huh?"

"Yeah. I think it would be for the best. I just need time. More time."

"I have lots of that," he said and tickled her side. She laughed.

"I'll get over Nate properly. I'll try to sort out this war against the Institute. And when I come back to you, I hope you'll be ready to kick some sorry asses," she said and they both laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long.  
> I've been festering.
> 
> so it turns out the last time I said "near the end" wasn't actually near the end, but NOW we're near the end okay.
> 
> please tell me what you think.


End file.
